


Invisible Girl

by Mel_Sanfo



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: AU Felicity Smoak, AU Oliver Queen - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, F/M, No Arrow, No island, Reunions, Sort of First meeting. Not really...
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-09 22:00:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6925060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mel_Sanfo/pseuds/Mel_Sanfo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One month. That's the amount of time she has to learn how to be charming, confident and extroverted enough to land the opportunity of a lifetime. </p><p>After years of working behind her computers, as one of the most sought out and reclusive composers of the arts industry, with her work ranging from Hollywood films and Broadway to Video games, Felicity has the opportunity to take on the project she's been waiting for her whole life. The problem? The studio big wigs behind the project she wants to work on, more than anything, have decided that she needs to break out of her shell of anonymity and become more than 'just' a name, if she wants to be associated with their film. They want her to be front and center, to become the next Andrew Lloyd Webber of the industry, before they take her on board. </p><p>There's only one person with the type of charisma she knows she needs to learn in order to pull it off... The man that broke her heart while she was in college.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Invisible Girl

**Author's Note:**

> I had this crazy idea running through my head for a while now so I'm going to go ahead and post it.
> 
> This is as AU as it gets. 
> 
> There is no schedule for this particular story, so please be patient.

It was the third night that she’d come to this place and the whole idea of ‘the third time's the charm’ wouldn’t leave her brain alone. Because, of course, that’s where her brain would go! With so many thoughts rushing through her gray matter a mile a second it was usually the most ridiculous ones that would keep popping up and throwing her off balance.

The third time's the charm, indeed.

The first night had been purely to verify her findings. One look at him, on that stage and she’d known she’d been right. There was no reason to remain there. She had left after taking a good look at the man she’d come to find.

The second night she had actually stayed to watch him perform. And it had been…enlightening, to say the least. She had tried to garner some of his time (private viewings they called it here) but when she had approached the bartender, to show her interest, she’d been told that his night was fully booked because he was ‘one of the favorites’ for private viewings and besides, the bartender had very little to do with the schedule for those. He did point out who she needed to talk to though.

Yes, third time’s the charm.

Tonight was the night.

Everything was already set.

She had arrived at the strip club earlier than any night before, with the pretense of making sure all things set for the bachelorette party they were holding at the club for one of the crew members of the last movie she worked on. Bypassing the bartender she had approached the right person who in turn had sent her to the manager of the establishment; a no-nonsense woman with lovely golden pecan skin, sharp eyes and dark, dark hair that she kept in a severe bun at the back of her head. The tiny office, with no personal touches, in the back of the building, was where the seedier part of the transactions happened and Felicity strapped her courage to herself, like armor, handing over an envelope, filled with cash, to the woman so the deal would be struck.

“He’s one of the best. I assure you, you will not be disappointed,” The woman had promised with a slow smile that reminded Felicity of ‘Bruce’ from Finding Nemo.

After that the manager led her, personally, back to the bar; directly onto a bar stool where she could watch the show. She was told that once he was done with his set someone would escort her to the room where they would do the private viewing. It was far more alluring of a statement than calling it a ‘lap dance’, or so her brain provided.

The space was exactly as you’d imagine an upper scale strip club to be. The bar was directly across from the stage, in an elevated platform and a few steps down, on the main floor, there were rows upon rows of tables and chairs, all of them leading to the main stage. Only two booths were available for bigger parties, right up close and personal to the corners of the stage, the L shaped sectionals done in a bright cherry red color that contrasted with the chrome tones and blacks.

When the bridal party arrived they swarmed Felicity for a moment, showering her with their many thanks for scoring them a place in the popular venue of female entertainment, before they settled on the sectional that had been reserved for the group, leaving her behind to her musings.

Going back to her mental inventory of the place she noticed that the tables were placed vertically, from the back of the main floor to the stage and Felicity knew that in more than one occasion the dancers would incorporate the tables into their routines; sometimes going as far as jumping onto them from the stage and using them as catwalks to mingle with the attendees.

There had been an occasion last time she was here where she had watched one of the dancers use the tables to walk up to its intended target; he had been picking up and pouring drinks all over himself as he went, leaving delirious drink-less women behind and when he’d reached the woman he had in mind he’d plastered his perfectly shaped abs to her face, rubbing the taut skin against her and getting her glasses wet. Glasses that he then took off of its owner and proceeded to ‘clean’, using the tiny little scrap of striped fabric covering his man parts. The women around had erupted in glee at the move while the woman herself, sans glasses, had a confused look on her face, since she couldn’t see a thing of what was happening.

Felicity had almost fainted as she watched, part in mortification and part in awe. It had been a bold move, for sure. She was glad she hadn’t taken a seat on the main floor, paranoid that she might have been chosen instead and she wanted her glasses nowhere close to ‘Redneck Reid’ goods.

No, thank you.

A glass of wine she’d forgotten she’d ordered appeared before her on the dark wood bar and she smiled, shyly, at the bartender. The same man that had talked to her a few nights before. He was a handsome guy, with short dark hair and twinkling dark eyes, a strong jaw and a cute button nose. And muscles, lots and lots of muscles, which he showed off with his uniform of an unbuttoned vest and slacks.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. His set is up next. I saw him practicing earlier. I think you’re going to like it,” He had to plant his hands on the wood of the bar, leaning over the surface a bit, in order to be heard over the din of the room and she nodded her head once, slipping him a twenty.

“Thank you. Keep the change.”

“Thank you, babe, and anytime. You need anything, call me up,” He offered with a wink, moving along to serve another customer.

Taking a long sip from her glass Felicity studied the rows of bottles behind the bar, trying to keep the little bit of sanity she had left. She knew that it would be hard to be here, to do this, but she couldn’t have imagined the amount of people and noise she’d be exposed to. Nervously she plucked at the buttons of her coat, making sure they were still perfectly set on the slits, even with the room being as stuffy as it was she had kept the coat on, as another layer of protection between herself and the outside world. The royal blue color muted in the semi darkness of the club.

“Ladies and gentlemen…Here he is! The guy you’ve been waiting all night for! Give it up for Joe Nash!”

The reaction to the announcement from the MC had the crowd cheering wildly, with screams of ‘I love you, Joe!’ peppering the air as well as high pitched whistles. Strobing lights focused on the edge of the stage, giving glimpses of several articles littering the corners stage which was mostly shrouded in darkness. The pulsing of the lights coinciding with the thumps of bass from the techno music. Slow, one beat, then two, like a distorted metallic heartbeat, the sound flooded the room and she turned on her seat in order to watch.

A tall figure stepped through the curtains on the very back of the stage. Each step he took was a lunge, perfectly in sync with the music, the metal rod she spied behind his neck was held with of his hands as he moved, step, down onto a lunge, then up again onto another step. The exercise graceful, measured, showing that he was a man in total control of his body. It took only a few of those lunge like steps until he was standing between two very tall black posts. Removing the bar from behind his neck he placed one of the tips of the metal rod to the floor, he widened his stance and swayed his hips in deep, slow, circles, using both fists to stroke the upper part of the metal suggestively.

The crowd, which had already been screaming, seemed to go even wilder at his mere presence but she did her best to turn their presence off within her brain, eyes solely focused on him, on the way his body moved to the sensual beat of the tune he’d chosen for this new act. There was a pause on the music, one he took as well and the strobe lights became a focused point on him from above, the limelight licking at his body.

He was dressed in a gray sleeveless hoodie, the hood of it pulled up over his head, which was bowed, his face hidden in the shadow the fabric cast down. The zipper at the front of his top was already undone, showing off his chest and ab muscles, plus the delicious looking V that framed his lower abs, disappearing down the waist of the loose black jogging pants he wore.

He thrust his hips forward, keeping the one, two beat of the music before twirling out, metal rod and all, hooking the metal horizontally onto a perch on the back of the two posts. High enough that his arms were extended all the way, showing the rippling of the muscles of his arms as he held onto the bar and moved his body to the music; his back was to the crowd for a few tantalizing seconds before he turned once more.

Keeping his hands on the metal bar and looking out into the crowd he let himself dangle from the metal and then swung his body a bit, making it look effortless, unhooking the bar from its prong and somehow propelling himself upwards, the clank of metal on metal perfectly matching a metallic sound from the music track he used.

The muscles of his arms, chest and his abs rippled, beautifully, as he climbed the contraption, leaving Felicity breathless. Once he was at the very top he let his body relax, hanging from the bar, as if he wasn’t several feet off of the stage/ He followed that with a series of playful pull ups, if any sort of pull ups could be considered playful, on the bar before he was climbing down with the bar, doing the same swinging movements as before, but in reverse.

Once his feet were firmly planted on the stage he let go of the metal bar and moved forward, the contraption itself slid off to the side of the stage, as if by magic and a practice dummy, like the wooden ones she’d seen in Bruce Lee movies took its place. The man on the stage didn’t miss a beat, planting his sneakered feet wide apart he rolled his body, the movement starting at the shoulders and going all the way down along with one of his hands, over the skin of his front while the other hand pulled the hood back.

There was nothing but the music and him after that. He was even better looking than she remembered and her lips formed a perfect little ‘O’ though she doubted any sound escaped her. Gone was the longish hair she remembered, the shorter strands of sandy blond hair much more suitable for him. Where there had been clean shaven skin before now he sported stubble. And he had definitely filled out a bit more. He had never been anywhere near close to out of shape but now he was a completely different story. Her suspicions were confirmed when the hoodie was tossed off of his body and she was able to see his upper body fully. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen him perform but the differences between the boy she knew back in college and the man he was now were still glaringly obvious to her, surprising her.

Keeping his body in perfect sync with the music he gave his back to the crowd once more, the jogging pants slung dangerously low on his hips, hugging his well-shaped ass. The way his back and arm muscles clenched and moved as he pounded the wooden arms and body of the training dummy was art on itself.

Working the stage, after a few moments spent with his wooden adversary, was easy for him and the crowd loved him for it. He danced all over the stage, hypnotizing everyone that watched him. Taking a running lead he slid on his knees on the surface of the stage, coming to a stop at the edge and motioning with a single forefinger to a lucky lady on the front row while pumping his hips suggestively. The woman, wearing a sash and tiara announcing her as a ‘bride to be’ was pretty much shoved towards the stage by her friends and once she was close enough he went on his knees and scooped her up, climbing to his feet with ease and twirling around, in time with the music, with her securely on his arms.

He deposited his prize on a padded bench, the kind gym aficionados used to do bench pressing and other exercises, sitting her down on the very edge of it. The girl looked incredibly nervous and was giggling uncontrollably, making him smile wider than was probably required for the routine. Giving the crowd his profile he bent down and whispered something on the girl’s ear before taking her hand and using his own to run hers up and down his chest and abs. He curled her fingers onto the waistband of his jogging pants and then twirled away from her. His jogging pants remained, dangling from her hand, making her squeal with delighted laughter and cover her face with her free one.

His remaining dance outfit, aside from his sneakers, a small thong in hunter green color. Going back to his prey he danced before her, with his back to the crowd. He tore the fabric of his jogging pants away from her hand before parting her legs and stepping between them. His hands, along with the girls, roamed all over his body, coming to a stop at his hips and when they did he thrusted, rolling his body again several times before letting go of her hands after he’d set them there, lifting his to his hair while his hips moved at the girl.

Another shift of position, with him moving the beet red girl from the bench and to the floor, he laid her down carefully, placing her hands above her head he looked out towards the crowd and wiggled his eyebrows in time with the music before dropping into a plank, right on top of the unsuspecting girl, mere inches off of her body. Popping up onto a pushup position he did a few of them before nuzzling into the girl’s neck and letting his body rest completely on her, as if he was coming home to a lovers embrace.

The music and the lights went off at that exact moment and even engulfed in renewed darkness the crowd erupted, once again, into an even wilder level of cheering than before. When the lights turned back on, a few seconds later, the girl was being aided down from the stage by the MC and the stage was cleared of the last gym apparatus.

'Joe Nash' was gone too.

“So, sweetheart, what did you think?”

The voice behind her made Felicity startle and she turned on her stool towards the grinning bartender.

“Pretty cool, wasn’t it? That salmon ladder is a bitch to do,” he said, as if she was supposed to know exactly what he meant by that. “Want another glass of wine?” he asked motioning with his chin towards her empty glass.

Her brows furrowed and she wondered when exactly she had downed the contents?

“That was…something,” she agreed, moving the glass towards him. “No more wine for me. Thank you, though.”

“No problem.”

He was gone as quickly as he’d appeared, with her empty wine glass in hand. It didn’t take long for Felicity to be approached by one of the security guys, just as the manager had promised. She followed the man towards the private viewing rooms and once she was inside she stood with her back towards the door, wringing her hands, her eyes on the love seat where she was supposed to park it so that ‘Joe Nash’ could work his dancing magic on her.

She could do this. It was just a business transaction, nothing more. She would make him her offer, convince him and then everything would be fine. Nodding her head a few times she tried to convince herself that if he refused it would be no big deal but, in truth, it was. It was a HUGE deal. The future of her career could depend on what she was going to ask of him. 

Back in college he had been the epitome of confidence. Back when she’d discovered her love for computers extended much further than cyber security and hacking, Felicity had been surprised to find that she could apply her creative side to her technical side, composing and arranging music by mixing technology and instruments. She had taken a few classes that had to do with the arts because of it, as electives to her already heavy laden school work and had met **him**. The golden boy, she used to call him in her head, the one that could charm anyone, own any room, steal any heart that was up for grabs. 

She should know, he’d stolen hers and ended up breaking it.

“That’s not what you’re here for. Stop thinking about that…” She reminded herself in a whisper, shaking her head.

The door opened and shut a few minutes into her mental monologue of how she’d just have to make the deal alluring enough that he wouldn’t be able to resist. The click of the door closing drew her from her musings and she took a deep breath, clasping both her hands over her belly, the butterflies within something she hadn’t felt since college.

“Hey there.” His voice had changed too, it had a hint of gruffness that it had lacked before and made the cluster of butterflies on her stomach flutter even harder. “I was told you’re my private viewer for the night.” He said while taking a few steps into the room, approaching her from behind, the rigidity of her shoulders obviously clueing him to her discomfort. “First time, I take it? Are you nervous?”

“Yes,” she managed to squeeze the answer out of her clogging throat, with a voice that sounded nothing like hers.

“It’s OK, sweetheart. Why don’t you go ahead and take a seat? Get a bit more comfortable. I’ll start us off slow, ease us into things.” He said, reassuringly. “I’ll take good care of you, alright?”

“No. That’s really not necessary, so not necessary.” she found herself saying with a shake of her head, turning on her heel to face him for the first time in years. “Not that your dancing skills leave anything to be desired of, they are really, really very good. Much improved since college, if I do say so myself. No more frat boy bouncing around after too many tequila shots and all that. Not that you ever stripped for me when we were in college or anything but you did like dancing and being shirtless. I mean I did see you shirtless multiple times...shirtless, all the time. But it’s different than what you just did, out there and yeah, no need for me to get comfortable at all, since all I want to do is talk to you. And you know that if there is something that I can do, like a champ, is that. Talking, I mean...which I should stop doing right now. 3...2...1”

And what a sight it was. He was dressed in an emerald green vest that did wonders for the color of his eyes, dark slacks and shiny black shoes. An outfit that reminded her of the one the bartender wore. Uniform. Huh! Who would’ve thought? 

Out of everything it was his eyes that caught her attention though. They were the same shade of blue she remembered and the surprise, the unadulterated shock, she saw in them was obvious, as was the slacking of his jaw when his lips parted and he found himself blinking several times.

“Felicity..?”

“Hi, Oliver.”     

 


End file.
